


Good Boy Bummers

by sometimesimeow



Category: Men's Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Alpha Cristiano Ronaldo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Bottom Lionel Messi, Boypussy, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Fuckboy Behavior, Humiliation, Intersex Omegas, Locker Room Talk, M/M, Objectification, Omega Lionel Messi, Phone Exhibitionism, Pilot One-Shots, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Sexism, Sexting, Top Cristiano Ronaldo, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex, no betas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23242609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesimeow/pseuds/sometimesimeow
Summary: All his life, people took care of Lionel Messi. Leo was sick, so he needed to be sheltered. He was a prodigy, so he needed to be treasured. He was an omega, so he needed to be protected.Unfortunately, this meant Lionel Messi was undeniably lonely.
Relationships: Lionel Messi/Cristiano Ronaldo
Comments: 34
Kudos: 196





	Good Boy Bummers

**Author's Note:**

> This story was set in 2010. 
> 
> Please mind the tags and if there are tags I may have missed, please inform me as well!

There was a tender, purgatorial state an unmated omega goes through when they finish their heats. It’s not as raw or powerful as an actual heat, and there’s none of the blistering itchiness of a pre-heat, but it’s strange and uncomfortable, especially if you’re without a mate.

Everything felt worse for Lionel Messi because he didn’t have the luxury of tracking his heats. His body didn’t adhere to a set schedule; sometimes, they were normal and timely, coming every three months like everyone else. Once, they occurred twice a year. For a horrible season, Leo endured them on a month to month basis. That was a hell year for him. Barcelona made things as easy as they could for him. They knew who was compatible with his heat, who wouldn’t fall victim to a rut at the slightest whiff of his pheromones. His guardians were selected after a thorough examination, escape paths were taken into consideration when they were playing a game, and they had scouts come a week beforehand to plan a route if they weren’t at Camp Nou. He was their star, so he was worth the thorough planning and strenuous measures they went through. It had been that way since Leo was a child, starting from when his parents argued over taking loans to fund his treatment to Barca shelling out of thousands of dollars for his growth hormones. Truth be told, Leo couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t guarded over. Alphas flocked to him since he was young. Ronaldinho would scent him every chance he got to ward off potential predators. His teammates would pick a bodyguard amongst them to walk him home whenever he left training. If he didn’t have anything to eat, David or Iniesta would send someone over to make him food or clean his house.

They told him to let them take care of him. They said the same things his parents did. Leo was sick, so he needed to be sheltered. He was a prodigy, so he needed to be treasured. He was an omega, so he needed to be protected. The system made it easier for him to play more football, and the more he played, the more his team won. Nothing needed to change.

Leo laid down as soon as practice was over. He liked the fresh mattress the field provided, and despite being mid-afternoon, there was still a sheet of dew on top of the grass. Winters in Barcelona were mild, so the sun was still shining in February. He wanted to take off his shoes and thread his toes through the blades. Maybe roll the ball underneath his feet for a massage.

“Leo?”

Leo opened his eyes. He smiled sleepily. The defendant’s towering figure blocked the sun’s rays from his vision.

“Yeah, Geri?”

“You good?” Pique asked him. He offered up his hand, which Messi took. The Argentinian was on his feet with little effort on his own. Pique was so strong, Messi thought. Without asking, the older player wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist and pulled him close. He was the perfect support beam for the omega, who was struggling to find the motivation to walk.

“I’m fine,” Leo mumbled. “Just tired.”

“You know, you don’t have to attend my birthday party if you’re not up for it. I know how bad your heats get. You’re not going to hurt my feelings,” Pique assured him.

Leo’s lips twitched. “You’re trying to get me to leave already?”

Pique laughed. He ruffled Leo’s hair and brought his head in close for a kiss. “Of course not, I even ordered a cake for you. Caramel and chocolate filling. Your favorite.”

The Spanish defender also ordered a chocolate fountain with a buffet of dipping material, ranging from strawberries and bananas to marshmallows and cookies. There were platters of jellybeans and gummy bears and fizzy drinks—all of Leo’s favorites. Pep would have killed Pique for preparing all of this if he knew. The Barcelonan coach had been trying to get Leo on a stricter diet for ages, but Pique couldn’t resist spoiling the tiny forward. Pique gathered Leo a plate as soon as he entered his home. When he handed Leo the plate, he received a wide smile, which was interrupted when Iniesta grabbed the Styrofoam from him.

Leo startled. “Hey!”

“At least try and put a carrot there,” Iniesta complained to Pique. The midfielder walked up to pile on some of the healthier options the caterers offered.

“It’s my birthday. Let him live a little,” Pique protested. 

“You’re going to live enough for everyone,” Puyol countered dryly. He gestured over to workers setting up the light fixtures and speakers all over the manor. Several questionable guests started to arrive as well, indicating the entertainment would soon come.

Pique frowned. “Hey, it’s just sugar. I rather he suck on a lollipop than a knot.”

Leo sipped his fizzy drink. He had heard this fight many times before. He hoped they finished soon so someone could get him a slice of cake.

“You would.” Puyol rolled his eyes. Iniesta handed Messi’s new plate to him. Puyol thanked him for Leo’s sake. 

Leo took it despite his disappointment. In a show of defiance, he then turned to Pique. “Can you get me my cake now? Before everyone arrives?” The last time Leo went to Pique's party, there was a girl inside the cake. After seeing the amount of frosting in her pussy, Leo lost his appetite.

Pique smiled victoriously. He left the room and returned with two slices of his promised dessert.

Puyol was watching him, and he made a show of eating the first slice while looking Puyol right in the eye, daring him to complain. Puyol was their captain, and he was a good leader and tended to be the reason for the group—but even had a hard time controlling Leo’s bad habits. Their captain sighed, and instead of pushing the issue, he plopped on the couch next to Leo and pulled him close.

“You’re a brat,” Puyol told Leo. 

Leo laughed and reminded the Spanish player that he was a brat who nutmegged him in training today, and the man playfully hit him on the head. Puyol then rubbed himself on Leo, making sure the omega was coated with his scent. Some of the other Barca players saw him do this and then proceeded to offer their services. Iniesta pressed his cheek against him, and then so did their newest members like Busquets taking part. They did this before any event with strangers. Omegas were natural targets during these sorts of parties, and people were drawn to them like flies. They had to make sure he was coated with their pheromones before letting him out of their sight.

After Leo finished his first plate, David Villa got him another. Leo played some PlayStation to kill time, and after winning the first game, more guests started trickling through. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder and gestured to crowds, indicating the celebration was beginning. Leo watched the influx of people pour in, and the volume got louder with each incoming guest. When the models came, that was when the party started for Pique. He had every _modeling_ agency in Barcelona on speed dial, so when he called asking for 10-20 omegas for a good time, he got it.

Leo got up to ‘join the festivities,’ simultaneously hoping to be included but did not participate in any capacity. He tried to put on a brave face. Leos didn’t like these sorts of crowds; he wasn’t like Geri, who thrived on the craziness. He didn’t want to dance or talk to new people. He liked football. He was good at football. When Leo was playing, they didn’t treat him differently because he was an omega. He was so good; it didn’t matter.

These parties were different because he wasn’t the sort of omega they wanted around. They didn’t want a friend who could score goals or pass the balls to them. They wanted an omega they could have a different sort of fun with.

The omegas they wanted didn’t get sick like Leo, whose stomach was churning in disgust from all the sensations. The warm familiarity Leo used to smell whenever he stayed over at Pique’s house got replaced by alcoholic sweat and pulling pheromones; people’s tongues licked each other's skin, one omega pressed her tits against Leo’s chocolate fountain, making him feel worst because he sure as hell couldn't eat it now. His body started flaring up, and he couldn’t tell if the temperature of the room got hotter or if it was his post-heat body reacting to the hormones in the air. The party got wild as the minutes passed. Leo’s vision blurred as if there was a mirage in front of him. The music got louder. People started dancing and grinding and singing as if their ears were made of steel.

Leo persevered. The grossness would go away, and eventually, the tight grip on his chest would loosen if he ignored his distress. Ronaldinho taught him that sometimes a little discomfort was necessary to be a part of the team.

Good things can come from pain, Leo remembered him saying after he got another injury. 

All of a sudden, the crowd erupted into cheers. Leo heard Pique swear gleefully, as a bunch of guests came through the door. The young forward watched as members of the Spanish national team made their appearance, including several other footballers he didn’t expect to be there. He was disappointed to see Cesc wasn’t in the crowd, but he supposed his friend had his hands full with his new captaincy at Arsenal. Leo’s eyes instead followed the Real Madrid players, which included the not-Spanish Cristiano Ronaldo, Ramos, and Iker, amongst a few other players. Ramos was scowling the entire entrance, but Pique welcomed Iker with open arms. Both were omegas, but no one could tell with how differently Pique treated them to Leo. He wasn’t kind or protective at all. He was rough and aggressive, and when he touched them, it was usually to manhandle them where he liked. Ramos always gave as good as he got, but Iker was slightly more passive in his response. He let Geri grab his ass and laughed and playfully slapped him across the face when he gave it a hard squeeze. Pique looked chastened at first, but then the crowd got louder, and he decided to give Iker a peck on the lips. That didn't sit right with Ramos, who shoved Pique and cursed him out for his behavior. Geri reacted by taking a handful of Ramos’ hair and pushed their lips together for a kiss. It held none of the sweetness of the kisses Pique gave to Leo.

No one was surprised by the punch in the face—Leo honestly expected worse. He knew from past experiences that Ramos didn’t shy away from violence.

Somehow, the action flipped a switch at the party.

Instead of killing the mood, people let loose into the second level of debauchery. The colorful masses blended like a painting, and Leo couldn’t tell them separate beings apart. He hadn’t realized that his breath had gotten shallow. The forward didn’t notice someone behind him, and he couldn’t dodge the hand that grabbed his ass. When Leo turned to confront him, the alpha’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, you’re—”

Leo watched as the man stumbled away before he could finish his sentence. Leo blinked. He watched as the guy immediately walked back to his friends. They mocked him for trying, and he defended himself by saying, 'he smelled so good.' Leo thought he recognized him, but it was too dark to tell. The chest of an omega soon covered his face. The alpha grabbed the model in the same way he grabbed Leo. Unlike Leo, the girl only shrieked and then laughed. It was an odd interaction, as her startled expression was replaced by arousal. She let him wrap his arms around her and slip his fingers underneath her dress.

The scene enamored Leo. He felt his body get hot like he was in heat but not, and his pussy experienced a surge of dampness. He bit his lip and watched the alpha’s fingers press against his inner thighs and make an imprint on her skin. Suddenly, they moaned against each other, and Leo could feel his clit throb like crazy.

Leo turned in the other direction and ran away. 

Pique's estate had a large, multipurpose area. There was a basketball court, too, and on the sides, had supplies to make the means for tennis or volleyball. Geri liked to play a bit of everything. Fortunately for Leo, Pique's true passion was football; there were more footballs than anything else in that room. Leo took one from the equipment stand and immediately started dribbling between his feet. Suddenly, almost slipped as he moved from one area to another. When he got composed, he took note that the floors were slippery than usual.

Pique must have had them cleaned, Leo thought. Well, it wasn’t like he didn’t have options. The field wasn’t too far away, and it even had a net for him to practice scoring. Leo took the ball with him outside and kicked it on his way to his destination.

“Is that what you do during a party?” He heard someone ask him from behind. “Play football?”

Leo turned around. Cristiano was standing there, smiling at him, eying the ball at his feet like a predator.

Leo smiled back. He stopped rolling the ball. “I don’t like parties.”

“Really?” Cristiano teased. All his teeth were showing. “So, football is all you do?”

Leo shrugged. “Football is more fun than being around people I don’t know.”

Cristiano made a gesture indicating he understood, but Leo doubted that was the case. He’d seen the player on television sometimes. He always seemed confident. Some of his teammates called it arrogance, but Leo couldn’t tell the difference.

Cristiano stared at him. He eyed the ball at Leo’s feet and returned his attention to Leo. “You know, I was feeling bored, too. How about we play a game together? Something friendly.”

“Sure,” Leo agreed. Playing was more fun with someone around.

Despite being the one who suggested it, Cristiano hesitated. Leo wondered what the look of surprise on his face was about. Since he didn’t know how to ask, Leo just started leading him outside, far from the party. When they go to the field, Leo found a spot to put his plate down. They passed by the party together, and Leo ignored the naked forms and lawless activity occurring in the main area. Pique seemed to be occupied with Iker and Ramos. 

He was enjoying his birthday to the fullest, Leo thought. The Barca player told Cristiano to wait because he was going to get another soda and passed the ball to him.

Cristiano caught the ball quickly.

“Do you want anything?” Leo asked.

Once again, Cristiano was staring. Then, he chuckled, a laugh laced with disbelief he, as he said, “Water?”

Leo made his face at the order but then agreed. He came back with a can of pop and a bottle of water. He also piled on more candy.

When they got on the field, Leo set his plate down on a nearby seat. Cristiano watched him munch on more cake.

“That can’t be good for you.”

Leo snorted. “You sound like my coach,” Leo told him and continued to eat his cake. “I always eat like this. It doesn’t affect my playing, so it’s not a problem.” He hoped Cristiano didn’t bring up the headlines of the ‘Porcelain Player’ and how he’d seem to throw up after every major game.

Cristiano had an odd look on his face. Leo had only ever seen it on other players, and he couldn’t describe it. “I can’t imagine eating like that,” Cristiano told him. “You’re so carefree. About your playing and your health.” Then, he chuckled, but it didn’t sound happy. “Guess that’s what it means to be a genius.” 

Leo didn’t respond. Before he could ask if anything was wrong, Cristiano was already removing his belt and rolling up his sleeves. Leo admired his arms. Barca players were some of the best athletes in the world, but the forward had to admit that Cristiano was on another level of fitness.

Leo couldn’t stop staring, and eventually, Cristiano noticed. He didn’t seem offended. If anything, he seemed _happy_. He smirked at Leo and asked if he liked what he saw.

Leo blinked in surprise. Then, unable to come up with the words to respond, changed the topic. He suggested they played one on one.

Cristiano laughed and agreed.

Leo passed the ball to Cristiano. “Here.”

Cristiano caught it. “You don’t want it first?”

“I never get it first,” Leo told him.

“Really?” Cristiano replied. He sounded tense. His smile had all his teeth out again, like fangs.

Leo nodded. “It’s harder for people to steal the ball off me, so the other person always gets the ball first.” It made perfect sense. Maybe, Cristiano liked the challenge, but if that was the case, Leo wanted to warn him, “If I have the ball first, you aren’t getting it from me.”

Cristiano waited for a moment and then laughed, but it had that same sort of edge as his smile. “Let’s play,” he said.

Leo grinned, ignoring what happened earlier. Cristiano acted first. He tried to make a feint against his rival at first, but Leo caught onto it before he could try. He learned a long time ago to focus on the ball and not the player himself. As soon as Cristiano shifted the left, Leo caught ahold of the ball on his right. He turned and got the ball on his dominant left and managed to dribble his way around Cristiano. Within seconds, he sprinted to the net and made the first goal of the night. He was grinning like madness when he did and turned to Cristiano. 

“See?” Leo told Cristiano, his smile wide on his face. He returned the ball to Cristiano, who was still staring at Leo. He didn’t say a word before he started playing again. Leo jolted back into the game. Cristiano had the size and power on him, and if he wanted to, he could easily knock Leo out of the field. His physicality with his talent and work ethic made him a monster on the field. But for that to matter, Cristiano would have to make contact with Leo, and this proved to be the hardest feat. Leo was faster and light on his feet. It was more than his size; it was his entire mindset. Cristiano tried to storm his way to the goal, but Leo side stepped it in and ducked underneath him to steal the ball. It happened so fast, and they were near the goal enough that Leo could shoot without looking.

Leo couldn’t help it. He laughed. His heart was pounding like crazy, because of how close he was to losing that shot. Cristiano’s eyes never left him.

“2-0,” Cristiano said out loud.

Leo nodded. His body was on fire. His head was floating. The air was fresh, and the sweat on Cristiano’s body started to smell _so good._ Leo was getting intoxicated.

“Again?” Leo asked.

Cristiano was already getting ready. This time, he was playing at full capacity, and it showed when he ran towards Leo at full force. Leo, in surprise, actually got out of the way to avoid the stampede. Cristiano scored his first goal of the night and cheered like he was in the Champions League. He looked so happy.

Cristiano gave him the ball this time. Leo asked if he was sure.

The Portuguese player narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure,” he promised Leo.

Leo smiled, and the two players went for two more rounds. Cristiano was on a roll because he made the next goal. “2-2!” Cristiano shouted in glee. At this point, Leo started to feel the spirit of competition. He didn’t like to lose, even in a friendly match, and it didn’t seem like Cristiano was holding back either. The next round lasted the longest because this was the winning goal. Messi couldn’t help himself. He decided to play a little, and when he came close to Cristiano, he winked at him. The gesture took Cristiano back and made him lose focus as Leo made the same feint Cristiano had tried to pull when they first started playing. The difference was that Leo succeeded in tricking Cristiano. The Portuguese forward ended up falling to his side as Leo was aiming for the goal. When Leo aimed, the hand on his shirt pulled him down against a hard, muscular figure.

“Ugh!” Leo grunted as he fell. His natural reaction was to yell at the defender that fucked up his shot and maybe get the man a much-deserved foul. Then, Leo remembered he wasn’t playing a real match. He saw Cristiano stare at his hand like he was surprised by his reaction. 

Leo thought the expression was cute. Cristiano must have taken the match pretty seriously. “I think we should stop playing now.”

Cristiano turned to Leo, surprised. “We’re still tied,” he protested.

“We might get injured if we keep going. Pep will be angry if that happens.” He got scolded way too much by the man. He had a father; he didn’t need another one. “I didn’t mean to play as hard in the last round, either.”

There was silence. “You weren’t serious in the beginning?”

Leo nodded. “You’re really good, Cristiano. I knew it’d be a good game. It’s always fun going against you when we play in Real Madrid.”

"Fun?" 

"Yes," Leo agreed. 

“Is it always just fun for you? Playing with me?”

Cristiano made a face. Leo couldn’t read it. He was still on the ground at this point and was looking up at the other man’s face. The Argentinian only had the lights from the party and the moonlight in the sky to read the other man’s expression, and that wasn’t enough to tell if he was happy or sad or otherwise. He wished he was more like Pique because that man knew how to read people—though that was mostly, for the sake of getting under the nerves of people like Ramos or pulling omegas into his bed. 

“You know, I remembered you during the finals last year. When I was playing for Manchester United,” Cristiano described. “It was my last game for them, and I remember being so angry because I thought we didn’t deserve to lose. I thought I shouldn’t have been so subdued that I had a right to challenge you because you were my rival. Mine. That I could have beaten you.”

Leo smiled, a little strained because he remembered that game well, and he loved how he and his team played. He didn’t like this talk of rivalries. He just wanted to play and enjoy his favorite game.

“When I watched it again, I understood why we lost. I work every day for perfection, and you look like you didn’t even try.”

Leo stared at him. Cristiano looked like he was still thinking, and so Leo spoke. “Football is different than anything else in the world,” Leo spoke softly. “It’s effortless. Like eating or breathing. When I play, I don’t have to think because it feels so natural.” It was strange talking about this to someone else. The last person who came close to understanding was Ronaldinho, and he was gone. Leo remembered being so angry at Pep when he transferred, and while they still talked on occasion, it wasn’t the same. Leo never got the support he was accustomed to with Ronaldinho. For some reason, maybe he hoped Cristiano could give him what he lost. “I don’t understand how players don’t feel the same way I do. I do something, and they can’t do it, and it makes no sense to me.”

The night was silent except for the music from the house. Finally, Cristiano spoke.

“It doesn’t make sense because you never have to try.”

Leo was taken back. Before he could deny Cristiano’s accusation, the player pushed him completely on the ground. Leo tried to get up but failed when Cristiano forced his weight on top of him.

“You’re so small,” Cristiano whispered. “Tiny. I’d split you open just by fucking you.” 

Leo couldn't respond before Cristiano kissed him. 

Leo gasped against his lips. The open passage made it easy for Cristiano to put his tongue inside him. He was forceful and intense and kissed Leo like he owned him. Leo felt overwhelmed, but the heat returned to his body, and it pooled in his groin. He could feel his wetness ruin his boxers and may have soaked through his pants.

Cristiano laughed when he parted. “Are you always so wet?”

Leo was stuck in a daze; he couldn’t respond in anything but breaths. Cristiano took it as permission to continue. His lips were on him again, and this time, his hands found an opening as well. They slipped into his shorts and found their way against his pussy.

“Ah!” Leo whimpered against his lips. Without thinking, his thighs parted ways for more access—a natural reaction for the omega, but Leo didn’t know that. He didn’t understand why or how his body was responding in such a manner.

Cristiano rubbed him more furiously. “Fuck, why hasn’t anybody dicked you yet,” Cristiano told him. “You act like you need it.”

Leo couldn’t respond. Everything felt good and hot, and too much for him. He arched his backed and pressed his soaking, untouched cunt against Cristiano’s fingers. Cristiano obliged by teasing him, sliding in between his folds but not yet penetrating him. The Portuguese player stopped kissing him to get up and take off his pants. His hands were already on the zipper when Leo instinctively reached forward and kissed him again.

Cristiano stopped moving when Leo kissed him. It seemed like all of the time stopped at that moment. The clock only started up again, when there was a tremendous cheer, and a massive round of mini fireworks lit up the sky.

Oh, right, Leo thought. It was Geri’s birthday.

Someone was shouting it was time to sing to the birthday boy, and everyone cheered in succession. Leo turned to Cristiano, but the man was already getting up. He didn't say a word to Leo; he didn’t even look at him. The alpha just grabbed his belt and walked towards the party.

Leo sat on the field for a few more minutes before getting up. He took his plate and finished it off on his way towards the house. He got there in time to sing the final part of Happy Birthday. Pique didn’t notice his presence at first. His pants were unzipped, his shirt was gone, and the two Madrid players were by his side, looking just as fucked out as he did. Finally, Pique caught his eye and kissed him on his forehead. He asked him if he was having fun, and Leo said he was. Then, when he noticed Cristiano talking to one of the hired omegas at the party. Leo stared at him, hoping the man would notice him. He didn't look his way; Leo turned to Pique and told him he was going to another room to play FIFA. Pique laughed and said that was a great idea. When Leo walked up the stairs, he noticed Cristiano was gone.

***

Leo spent the night at Pique’s place. He’d been getting up at 7 in the morning since he was a teenager at Barcelona’s training academy, and the habit wasn’t something that could be broken by an upset stomach and loud music. The star forward walked down the stairs and passed the humorous sight of people walking off their hangovers in various stages of undress. Leo saw Pique's manager discuss payments over the phone at the doorway—he waved to Leo, and Leo waved back—before the Argentinian moved to the kitchen. He went straight to the fridge and got out the orange juice.

Pique walked in later, talking to Dani and Xavi about the night he had “screwing the two _blancos_ ” raw. “You know, Ramos is a real bitch, but I don’t think I’ve ever fucked a pussy that tight,” Pique said gleefully. He grabbed a bottle of leftover whiskey. Leo noticed that no one told him he couldn’t drink this early in the morning, despite it being terrible for his health. Pique poured them all a glass.

“You know, I figured Ramos would be looser given the stick up his ass,” Dani joked as he took a sip. 

The guys laughed. “Nah, he only acts like that for show. He’s a grade-A slut. Always wants to get his pussy used, but he can’t go out looking for knots, or people might ‘lose respect for him.’” Pique mocked, much to the amusement of his friends. “It’s a joke. He says no a few times, but then you shove a finger up his cunt, and he’ll be crying for a dicking.”

“You know he’s going to be captain,” Xavi offered. “After Iker is gone.”

That was interesting, Leo thought. Iker made history when he became the first omega captain in Real Madrid history. Having Ramos follow him would cement both their legacies—prove to the world that it wasn’t just luck or a publicity stunt to have an omega as captain.

Sometimes, Leo wondered if he could ever get that far for Barcelona. 

“Oh fuck, don’t even talk to me about Iker.” Geri released a long, exaggerated moan. The guys laughed at him. “Seeing him was the best birthday present ever.”

“That good?”

“Better,” Pique told him. “Perfect pussy, perfect ass, he does this thing where he tightens around you when you’re inside him. You could fuck him every day and never get tired. Gets me hard just thinking about it.”

The guys make no effort to hide their exasperation. “How do these sluts keep saying yes to you?” 

“I can give you ten reasons why,” Pique joked, grabbing the flaccid cock in his shorts. Leo was curious enough to take a peek, and when Pique released it, Leo saw that it made a sizeable bulge through his boxers. Leo’s licked his lips and tried to remember if Ronaldo was just as big. 

The other guys waved him off. Xavi asked what they were going to have for breakfast, and Geri said they should order in, given it was their day off. They suggested waking up the other overnighters for their suggestions when Leo asked if he could have medialuna rellena.

“Or just something sweet,” Leo asked.

All the inhabitants of the kitchen jumped.

As soon as they saw him, all the alphas started laughing, and Leo joined in. Pique walked towards him and hugged him tightly. “You fucking scared me. Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

Leo shrugged. “You seemed busy talking.”

Pique shook his head. “C’mon, you know that’s just alpha talk. It’s nothing big. Let’s get you something to eat.” It took an hour to go through their guests—mostly members of the Barca team—before they made their orders. They warned Leo of the waiting time for his food, knowing full well what a glutton their pack's omega was. At that time, Leo watched Pique bid their guests goodbye, including the many girls and boys they ‘hired’ for additional entertainment. He kissed some on the cheek and patted more than a few asses on their way out. Some of his other teammates did the same. They grabbed these strangers’ asses and shoved their tongues down their throat. Leo watched their interactions with more attention than he ever had his entire life.

It was interesting, Leo thought, how alphas treated omegas that weren’t apart of their packs. Their attitudes towards his sex made him realize that maybe, Cristiano’s behavior wasn’t strange. Maybe Cristiano was just treating Leo like a potential mate.

The option made Leo feel more relieved, and he smiled, thinking about it. He got up from his seat and started setting up the plates. His action spurred the other guests into movement, and before he was finished with the first arrangement, everyone had already gotten the table ready. Leo sat down and waited for the food, the smile never leaving his face.

“That’s the last of them,” Pique said when he returned to the room, a lighter wallet in hand. He threw it on the couch and sat next to Leo. “What’s got you smiling?”

Leo grinned. “Nothing.”

Pique chuckled. “You had fun last night?”

Leo nodded. “I liked your cake.” 

“Knew you would,” Pique told him. “And the music wasn’t too loud when you were gaming?” 

Leo shook his head. “Besides, I wasn’t gaming the entire time.” 

“What you danced?” Pique teased. He knew Leo had to be dragged on the dance floor under the most extreme conditions.

“No, I played some football in your yard.”

Pique laughed, and shook his head, saying something like ‘figures.’ Then, Xavi, who sat across from them, frowned.

“You were alone? Outside? At dark.”

Pique scoffed. “Oh come, it’s not that dangerous—”

“No,” Leo answered, honestly. “Cristiano was with me.”

The room became silent. More bodies piled up, and it was David Villa, who just came in, who had to ask if something was wrong.

Pique didn’t answer. The smile had dropped from his face. “Cristiano was with you? When was this?”

“Before we sang happy birthday to you. We played one on one,” Leo answered.

“You just played football?”

Leo didn’t know what was happening. He thought about the kiss, and he wondered if he should tell them, but when he saw the dire looks on their faces, he knew that wasn’t an option. He didn’t want them talking about him like they talked about other omegas. He didn’t want them to lose all respect for him.

“Yeah, just football,” Leo answered. He knew he made the right choice when he saw the look of relief on some of their faces. “It was fun. He didn’t like me eating so much candy, though.” 

Pique relaxed a lot by the comment. “Yeah, the guy’s a total health nut,” Geri told him. “All he eats is flavorless chicken and salad—and if he doesn’t have his weight in fish, I think he’ll lose his mind.”

Leo giggled. “And you’re friends with him?”

Geri grinned. “Yeah, he’s a fun guy. When we were at Man U together, we were the only ones who didn’t speak English, so we just stuck together. And we’re both ass men, so we used to compete for omegas in the club, seeing who can score first.”

“No wonder you left Man U,” Dani joked. “Couldn’t handle all those blows to your ego.” Pique playfully through some cutlery at him. They laughed as it became a minor table fight.

Leo waited for it to be over when Pique added that he was surprised he came. “But it was good to see him again. We haven’t hung out in a while.”

“Do you have his number?” Leo asked.

The awkward silence returned, but this time, Geri recovered faster than before. “Why?”

Leo wondered why everyone was acting so weird. “I was thinking of playing him again. I liked it.” 

Pique's smile seemed weighted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Leo.”

“Why?” It was Leo’s turn to ask. “You said you were friends, and that he’s a fun guy.”

“My kind of fun is different than your kind of fun.”

Leo didn’t let up. “We both have fun playing football, don’t we?”

“Yes, but—”

“Well, how do you know Cristiano and I won’t have fun together?”

Dani snorted. “It’s you two having fun we’re worried about,” he muttered.

Pique glared at him. Leo frowned, not getting the message. “He seems like a nice guy, and I want to play with him again. He’s really good.”

“I know,” Pique told him. “And I know he _seems_ nice, but a guy like that is only nice to omegas for one reason.”

Leo didn’t want to let up. He couldn’t control his tongue and told Geri that wasn’t the worst thing in the world. “Maybe I want Cristiano to get what he wants.”

The tension could be cut with a knife. Before anyone could speak, someone came in to inform them the food had arrived. No one got up from their seat. Leo looked Geri straight in the eye. He wasn’t flinching, and eventually, David stepped in again.

“Leo, we get it,” he told him. “You want to play more football, and Cristiano is a phenomenal player.” He sighed. “More on your level.” Hearing the confession out loud pained Messi, because he knew it was a sore spot for the other players. “But, he’s not the same person on field as he is off it, and we don’t want you to get hurt.” He ruffled Leo’s head like they all do. Like he was a kid. “Aren’t we good enough to play with you for now?”

He as teasing Leo. Leo wanted to say no out of petulance, but he didn’t want to hurt David, and he didn’t want this becoming a big issue and spreading to Iniesta or Puyol, or worse, Pep. So, he swallowed his pride and nodded.

“Yeah,” Leo told them. 

David promised to talk about the matter later, and Pique left to grab the food. They made a plate for him, as always, and Leo pretended to have forgotten about it when Pique gave him a ride back to his house. After the defender walked him to the door, Leo turned around so that they were facing each other.

“We are going to talk about it, right? Why you don’t like Cristiano.”

Pique sighed. “I like Cris. He’s a friend. But—” The defender sighed and shook his head. He kissed Leo on the cheek. He was scenting again. “I’ll take you out to dinner to explain, and trust me, by the end of it, you’ll never want to see Cristiano again.”

***

The promise remained unfulfilled. The team never talked about it with Leo, and Leo never brought it up. Leo could have gone on forgetting the whole incident if it weren’t for that one night after practice when he received a text from an unknown number. 

Leo’s heart stopped when he saw the message.

_I can’t stop thinking about that night._

The forward looked at his friends who were busy getting dressed to go home. Leo hastily bid everyone goodbye and almost ran to his car. Leo drove all the way home before he took the risk of looking at his texts. He didn’t want to get caught in the Barca parking lot, or anywhere his teammates could see him and wonder what was going on. Once he was safely nestled in his bedroom, Leo asked how the sender got his number. He didn’t ask who it was or tried to make sure it was Cristiano—a stupid mistake on his part, but one with little consequences as the man replied that he got the number from Higuain, Leo’s fellow Argentinian teammate. The answer was followed up by a cheeky confession that he may have stolen it from his phone without the man’s permission. 

Leo smiled. He felt giddy, and there was something about the risk of his teammates finding out and getting angry that decided to text Cristiano back more irresistible.

_Why did you want my number?_

Leo asked. He hoped he sounded playful and not insecure. He’d never done this with an alpha before, just friends. He never had to be coy or flirtatious.

Cristiano started his replies innocently. He said he enjoyed the game they played and how playing other people didn’t have the same kind of thrill. Then, before Leo’s heart could return to normal, Cristiano started talking about their kiss. Leo touched his lips when Cristiano said his lips were delicious.

_Can I call you?_

Leo didn’t answer. Seconds later, his phone was ringing.

Leo swallowed and picked it up.

“Hello?” Leo answered.

“Hey,” Cristiano responded.

Silence passed between them before Cristiano started speaking again. “Are you nervous?”

Leo thought about lying. He didn’t. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re surrounded by alphas every day, and you don’t know how to talk to one?”

“Those alphas are like my brothers. I know how to talk to my brothers.”

“You don’t see me as a brother?”

Leo laughed at that. He heard Cristiano laugh a little as well. “No,” Leo told him through his giggle. “Definitely not.”

“Then, what?”

Leo bit his lip. “Maybe a friend?”

“A friend?” Cristiano chuckled. “Would your brothers be happy if you have a friend like me?”

Leo remembered his earlier conversation with teammates and the warnings his biological brothers gave him when he made the first team. Don’t be friends with alphas; they only want one thing from you. Leo shook his head, even though Cristiano couldn’t see him. “No, they wouldn’t like it at all.”

“Then, we’re not going to be friends.”

Leo found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. He couldn’t think of a response, no ‘well, what are we going to be’ or ‘what do you want with me.’ Instead, Cristiano asked if his brothers were always so protective of him.

“You were scented from head to toe when I met you. That’s a dead giveaway of an unmated omega—especially since I could still taste the heat on your lips. Omegas fucked during their heats always have their alpha’s stench _inside_ them, not on them.” Leo could hear Cristiano’s scoff. “You’d be sweating out cum.” 

Leo could feel the hand around his neck. Leo couldn’t breathe. “I have to go.” 

“I wasn’t trying to offend you.” 

“I have to go,” Leo repeated. “I have to eat. And take a shower. And sleep—”

“Have you ever been fucked before?”

Leo couldn’t answer. He choked.

“I figured you haven’t. Not with all that security around you.” Cristiano told Leo he wasn’t offended by his virginity, and that he’d prefer the tightness of an unused cunt. The words made Leo’s skin crawl, but the Argentinean couldn’t hang up the phone. He was frozen. “Your thighs were so soft when I pressed against them. You were a natural, too, with how you spread them apart for me. I could tell you wanted me between your legs.”

Leo tried to force himself to hang up. He leaned against the wall and slipped his hands inside his shorts. He tried to rub himself the same way Cristiano did and pressed his pointer finger against his clit.

“Hmm!” Leo accidentally whimpered out loud.

Cristiano didn’t speak for a moment. For a second, Leo thought the man would call him out. Instead, Cristiano continued to talk about Leo’s body.

“I didn’t get to touch your ass,” Cristiano told him. His breath was shallow, too. “But I can imagine how good it’ll feel in my hands. I bet one of your cheeks wouldn’t even fit in my palm. They’re so big. I love you watching you jiggle down a field during a match. You’re so fucking distracting—I’m tempted to call the refs on you for being a cock tease.”

Leo swore he was going to protest, but Cristiano announced he was going to hang up. Leo was surprised by the abruptness.

“Why?” He asked, even though he knew he shouldn’t be disappointed. He was about to hang up earlier on his terms.

“I want you to send me a picture. Show me you were worth waiting for.”   
Leo didn’t get to protest. Cristiano hung up the phone, leaving Leo was a sore, aching pussy, and a humiliating demand.

He shouldn’t do this, Leo thought. His brothers would kill him. His father would be so ashamed. His teammates—god, they would be so disappointed in him.

But Leo wasn’t thinking about any of them at that moment. All he was thinking about was this need building inside him and how Cristiano seemed to be the only person who was willing to give him what he wanted.

Leo pulled down his pants and tried to get a decent angle for a picture. When Leo was finished, he frowned. It wasn’t a good shot. He tried again, and on the third try, he decided to use the bathroom. He hoped Cristiano wouldn’t get impatient. Finally, after a third, shit shot, Leo closed his eyes recalled some pics being traded in the locker room by the guys, he tried to remember the angles those girls and boys were in, the lighting and the frames. He took note of all the little critiques he got from his teammates about those photos and snapped the photo.

It looked good, Leo thought. Not perfect, but good.

Leo sent Cristiano the picture and waited for a reaction. He was nervous, but it was a fun kind of nervous. He’d never been in this situation before.

Finally, Cristiano responded.

_Natural???_

Leo laughed. It was such a weird question.

 _Yeah_ , he answered.

_One more. Show me some pussy._

Leo’s chest swelled up with some pride. His picture must have been great because Cristiano wouldn’t have asked for more if he didn’t like what he saw.

***

Leo listened to his teammates more attentively now. They talked a lot about their ‘scores’ in the locker room. While some are quieter than others—Busquets and Puyol, for example, didn't like to participate in these conversations, happily engaged in their own, monogamous relationships. Leo didn't want them to change their behavior because he was an omega. He had his own bathroom for personal hygiene but often returned to the locker room to join in on bonding. There, he listened to them about their exploits in great detail.

Their conversations were rather enlightening. Leo listened to them talk about the things they’ve convinced omegas to do, and how they described their conquests—often using the terms: ‘dirty slut’ ‘fucking whore’ ‘filthy bitch’ and so forth. There were a lot of names an alpha can call omegas. Sometimes, they only refer to them as a hole or a cunt. Leo never knew there was so much diversity in sex. Leo wanted to ask them what they liked better. Did they prefer an omega who got on their knees and crawled to them like a slave, or did they like the omega who took charge and rode them like a horse? The first one was predated by the complaint of being a dumb slut, and the latter was called a good for nothing whore. He knew they liked to take omegas doggy-style because they were always showing videos to each other about the omegas, they've fucked that way. In the end, Leo kept his mouth shut. He was afraid if he asked, they would wonder why he wanted to know and then they’d learn about his communications with Cristiano.

Pretending he wasn’t listening wasn't hard. Leo recorded every word in his head. He wrote to Cristiano in his texts, using the phrases he learned in the locker room. _I want your hands on me_. _I want my cunt filled_ _up_. Cristiano always responded when he wrote like that.

When Cristiano asked for more, Leo sent pictures. He got some photos off the internet and tried to imitate them. Cristiano liked his ass more than his cunt, so he focused on different positions to showcase it. More than a few times, when the players weren’t paying attention, Leo got ahold of their phones and looked up the plentiful supply of pics they got from the omegas. Those were better than the ones he got online.

Leo always felt dirty after sending Cristiano a picture or a text, but he was high on the exhilaration. Cristiano Ronaldo was different from the alphas Leo surrounded himself with. All packs have different dynamics. Some are like wolf packs with a clear hierarchy; some are like beehives focused entirely on serving a single queen, some were out for themselves but bonded together on a shared interest like tigers, or Real Madrid.

Leo appreciated how caring his pack was towards his wellbeing. They made him feel safe; he never had to worry about being taken advantage of; he knew they would kill anyone who tried.

But their protection was as much a prison as it was a refuge. No matter how much his teammates wanted to shield him from the world, they couldn’t fight his body; they couldn’t take away the parts of him that made him an omega.

Leo was lonely. 

***

Barcelona won their latest match, and Leo scored a hat trick that would be sung about for ages. He and his teammates sang and laughed about their latest victory, and amid celebrations, Leo learned about Real Madrid’s defeat. He stopped smiling. Leo didn’t think he’d ever be so disappointed in the blancos' defeat. No one noticed as he snuck away to his bathroom.

Leo tried to call Cristiano, but there was no answer. Then, he texted him, and there was still no reply. He tried for a while, and finally, there was a single response.

_I want to see you._

The request had Leo’s heart pounding. For a moment, he wondered if Cristiano was asking him to come to Madrid so they could finally meet in person. They’d seen each other for a game prior, but this was a different situation. They weren’t _talking_ to each other then. They were just strangers.

Then, Cristiano sent another text, and Leo’s heart dropped.

_Show me your face._

Oh. Leo couldn’t hide his disappointment. It was one of those requests. Leo ran his finger over the screen. He really shouldn’t do it, Leo thought. If any picture with his face got leaked, he’d be fucked, and there was no way to deny his complicity. There were more reasons why he should deny Cristiano this favor.

Instead, Leo took off his clothes and took a picture using one of the poses Geri was bragging about getting the other day. He twisted his body around and used his fingers to part his ass so that the camera could take a nice picture of his hole. His pussy was showing, too. He faced the mirror and was able to capture his full body on camera. He knew Cristiano would love it.

Cristiano didn’t answer at first, and Leo was too much a coward to check further. Fortunately, Busquets started knocking on his door, asking if he was sick. Leo told Busquets he was getting ready, and hastily put on his clothes. He took a final look at his cell phone before putting it back in his and joining his team. They still had practice the next day, and Pep would be joining them so they wouldn’t get too crazy.

On the bus, Messi’s phone vibrated. He glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention—even Pique, his seatmate, was immersed in a conversation with Xavi. Leo looked at his phone.

_Come to Madrid._

***

The thing was, Leo had never bought a plane ticket for himself. His brother, Rodrigo, was his manager and took care of any traveling between Barcelona and Rosario because he was often going with Leo anyways, and any further vacation he took, Rodrigo had a hand in planning. When Leo went with the team, they had people take care of those matters for him. He was sure it was easier than it looked. Flights between Barcelona and Madrid occurred constantly, and Rodrigo used to pop on one last-minute for business trips all the time.

The main issue was the lie Leo would have to tell everyone.

If Leo left tonight, he’d still be late for practice the next morning, and he wasn’t sure if Cristiano would want to see him later. And Leo wanted to see Cristiano. He wanted to be there for him. Leo wanted to talk to him, kiss a little, and maybe play a game of football like they did at the party.

I could say I’m sick, Leo thought. He did throw up on the field today, given Pep more incentive to nag him about his poor diet. But it was a plausible story and simple was better. Pep didn’t like it when he overexerted himself so he wouldn’t ask questions. The team wouldn’t check up on him until after practice, which meant he had all morning to get back to Barcelona before they visited.

It was a good plan, and Leo was feeling so clever, having thought of it. He could even tell them now, and someone could take him home so he'd have time to pack. 

Leo's plans all fell apart the moment he walked outside and saw that his phone was in his teammate’s hand.

“What the fuck, Leo?” Pique sounded furious. His hand was shaking while he held Leo’s phone.

Puyol stood up, standing in front of Pique in case he needed to be retrained. Iniesta was ready to step in if the situation called for his assistance, but he continued to stay in his seat, which urged the others to do the same. They were captain and vice-captain for a reason, and their calm presence kept things from getting out of hand. At least, Leo hoped so.

“Calm down, Geri,” Pep ordered. Their coach turned to Leo, and there was sadness in his eyes. “What’s going on, Leo? Why are you talking to Cristiano?" 

“Why do you have my phone?” Leo asked, his breathing was uncontrollable.

Pique asked if he was serious about asking them that. “He was calling you, Leo. I recognized the number, and when I answered, he hung up. Fucking asshole.” Pique glared at him, and there was so much hate in his eyes. “I saw your text messages. We all did.”

Leo’s entire body burned. That meant they saw the pictures—all of them.

“What the fuck happened at that party?” Geri asked. “Did he try to fuck you? Is that why you’re doing this? Did he threaten you?”

“No, we just played football—”

“Like hell, you did!”

Leo couldn’t remember the last time he felt so ashamed. He stood there and listened to Pique yell at him, and when the defender wasn’t satisfied, more members of the squad spoke up. David gave his two cents, as did Dani and Xavi. Puyol talked about self-respect, and Iniesta tried to calm everyone down, but he _had to_ talk to Leo. He _had to_ tell him what a big mistake he was making. Pep must have wanted to deliver the fatal blow because he told him this was the dumbest thing he could have done. Cristiano was not someone to be trusted, and he was a fool for thinking he cared. 

"What about your career?" Pep asked Leo. “Do you know how this will look if these pictures got out? Especially as an omega?”

It was at that moment, something in Leo snapped.

Indignation took over Leo’s body. Yes, he did something stupid, and maybe everyone was right. He was fucking up his life. _But they took his phone._ They took something private and his, and like his relationship with Cristiano, they were trying to control him to do what he wanted. Leo was ashamed, yes, but he was also angry. Angry about having his life being controlled by everyone. His coach tried to restrict his playing. His teammates dominated his personal life. His brothers managed his career. His father was in complete control of his finances. All he had was football, but he couldn’t play all the time. When he was off the field, he had nothing. Nothing belonged to him, but for once, he had Cristiano. He had something that was all his, and they were trying to take it away from him.

“This isn’t fair,” Leo snapped. He couldn’t control the venom in his tone, and everyone seemed taken back by the reaction.

“Leo—” Iniesta started.

“You talk exactly like him. All of you do.”

“What? What do you mean?” Pep turned to his players, before returning his attention to Leo.

Leo stopped looking at him. He wanted to stare Pique, Xavi, and the rest of them in the eye as he spoke. “All you do is talk about the omegas you’ve fucked, and brag about their bodies and the stuff they’re willing to do for you. You don’t care about omegas unless you have sex with them. But if I do it, I lose respect. Why can’t I be like those omegas? Why am I different?”

“Leo,” Xavi took a deep breath. “We don’t mean those things. It’s just shit we say to other alphas.”

The players didn’t have a chance to agree, because Leo reminded them, it’s also shit they say around him. “You said it was natural for an omega to be under you. If being fucked is part of being an omega is, why can’t I do it?”

Some members seemed uncomfortable to respond. Pique was having none of it. “Because you’re different, Leo. You’re not like those whores. You’re special, you—”

Leo took that opportunity to grab his phone back from his friend. Pique's reaction was immediate. The second Leo got ahold of his device; Pique pushed back. Leo stumbled on his feet backward. Pique immediately moved to catch him, but Leo responded in the same way. He shoved Pique back as hard as he could.

“I’m not a fucking kid!” Leo shouted.

“Well, you act like one!” Pique yelled at him back. “Look at the shit you eat. Look at the fucking perverts you attract. Cristiano Ronaldo? Seriously? I came here from England, and the first thing I learned was how to take care of you! And I was happy about it because fuck, I’ve done it since the academy! Do you remember? All those fucking assholes who tried to get in your pants. All the sacrifices Pep had to make?"

Leo looked confused, and Pique must have seen it because he started laughing. Puyol grabbed him, telling him to stop. “He doesn’t need to hear this now.”

“Yes, he does.” Pique shoved him off. “You want to know why we don’t want Cristiano around you? It’s because we know how easy it is for you to get taken advantage of.”

Leo stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Geri, that’s enough.” Iniesta was standing up now. Between him, and Puyol, they meant business. The other players sat by and watched, which said they were either torn between the two forces, or were supportive of Pique's rant, and didn’t want to risk going against their captains.

Pique turned to Pep. “Tell him.”

Pep said nothing.

“Tell him, or I will.”

Leo turned to his coach—someone who’d supportive since he was a child out of the academy, who saw through his training his entire life, from an assistant to head coach. Someone who loved Leo and wanted him to succeed no matter what. When the man didn’t meet his eyes, Leo returned to Pique.

"Tell me what." 

“Ronaldinho,” Geri revealed. “was going to mate you.”

Leo felt like he'd be punched. “What?”

“He was waiting for your next heat. You were already compatible, so that it would have been an easy job. You get taken you home, Ronaldinho waits until practice is over, and then fucks you full of babies,” Geri glanced over at Pep. “Pep found out about his plan and had him transferred. He was already a train wreck, so it was an easy decision. The future star of Barcelona or the former legend who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants not to fuck a kid.”

Leo could only say one word in response. "No." 

Ronaldinho was his friend. Ronaldinho was his big brother. His mentor. He would have never done that to Leo.

“You’re lying,” Leo denied. “He wouldn’t do that.” The Argentinean looked around the room. No one was meeting his eyes. “We still talk. He’s never tried anything with me.” 

Leo turned to Pep for confirmation. The man remained solemn, and that was confirmation enough.

Pique stood victoriously. “You need to be protected, Leo.”

Leo felt like he was stepping out of his body. He watched his teammates berate Pique for being so harsh, and yelled at him, because ‘Leo wasn’t ready.’ Someone tried to ask him if he was okay. Leo didn’t answer.

While they were distracted, Leo turned his heel and sprinted out of the restaurant. He heard them cry after him and knew a chase was going to occur if he didn’t get out of sight fast enough. So, he ran and ran—he was always a good sprinter and managed to get himself out view. They were still calling his name, but Leo didn’t care. He didn’t want to talk anymore.

***

Leo did a lot of things on impulse. He played on impulse, often forgoing plans for the sake of his instincts. He fought with Pique on impulse and may have ruined the most significant friendships of his life. He told his driver, who was taking him home to go to the airport instead, and when he was there, he asked the attendant how he could purchase a ticket to Madrid. She recognized him—a diehard Barcelona fan, and was so eager to help that even Leo couldn’t help but smile from her care. He got a ticket for a flight that left in the next hour, and she also got him a window seat.

While Leo waited, he was tempted to turn on his phone. Everyone had been calling him. His teammates, his brothers, the coach—but he turned it off the second he saw his parents’ numbers.

The flight only took an hour and a half. When Leo got off the plane, he braved the consequences and turned on his phone. He was bombarded with warnings of missed calls and the hundreds of text messages he received during his electronic sabbatical.

Leo ignored them all. There was only one call he wanted to make.

“What the fuck, Leo?” Cristiano asked as soon as he picked up. “Where have you been? You haven’t answered any of my calls, and I just got a hundred messages threatening to cut my balls off from your teammates—”  
“I’m in Madrid.”

“…What?”

“I took a flight here,” Leo told him softly. “I wanted to see you.”

“Where are you?”

“The airport. I just got off the plane.”

There was a pause.

“What terminal?” 

For the first time tonight, Leo felt like he could finally breathe.

***

Leo didn’t know what he expected from Cristiano’s home. He wasn’t sure if he should have been surprised by the hall of mirrors he stepped into, because he knew Cristiano took extra care into how he looked, but he didn’t know at what degree. It was a nice house, regardless. Clean and stylish, but cold—nothing looked live in. Leo had crumbs from his first day in Barcelona still lodged in his couch. Cristiano’s furniture looked like they got replaced every month. Before he could compliment the decorum, Cristiano pushed him against the wall.

Leo’s eyes widened when their lips met. He tried to relax into it, but Cristiano’s hands moved to his pants and almost snapped his belt open. When he let go of Leo’s mouth to kiss his neck, Leo’s breathing is a mess.

“Can we…” Leo moaned when Cristiano’s mouth teased his mating gland. His fangs pressed against him, too shallow to even leave a lasting mark, but no one had ever touched that place before. Leo could feel the surge of hormones invade his body. His pussy was getting wetter. He was burning with embarrassment. “Can we slow down?”

Cristiano scoffed, followed by a harsh laugh. “You came all the way to Madrid to see an alpha and you want to slow down?” 

“I…” Leo swallowed. “I want to talk.” 

Cristiano narrowed his eyes at him. “We can talk after I fuck you.”

Cristiano dragged him away. Leo thought his legs were no longer connected to his head. That never happened before, and Leo felt sicker because of it. The nausea didn’t go away when he entered Cristiano’s bedroom. It looked just as lived in as the rest of his house. Leo wondered if anyone ever slept here.

“Get on the bed. Take off your clothes.”

Leo didn’t move at first. Then, his body moved to the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head. He looked in a nearby mirror and wondered if he looked as scared as his reflection. Leo was always told he had a baby face. Maybe he should consider growing a beard or something because he hated how _young_ he looked. How vulnerable.

“Pants, too,” Cristiano ordered. He was unbuttoning his top. 

Leo hesitated. Then, he obeyed as he stared at Cristiano’s defined chest. As scared as he was about what was to come, Cristiano was undeniably handsome. His body was on another level. He heard people talk about it, especially other omegas, how it was a man’s body, _an alpha’s body_. Leo could feel the arousal built in his loins.

Both of them stripped until they were almost naked. Cristiano kept his boxers on. When Leo thought he could do the same, the Portuguese player told him to lie down. Leo complied. He gasped when Cristiano pulled down his boxers.

“Fuck, that’s a pretty clit.”

Cristiano was staring at Leo’s pussy like it had more value than his legs. Leo looked up at the ceiling, hoping to hide from the embarrassment, but there was a mirror there, too. 

The sudden weight on his body indicated Cristiano had moved on from admiration to action. He was kissing Leo again, which made the younger forward feel relieved. Leo liked kissing. He liked how hot Cristiano’s mouth was, and how good the alpha tasted. He wasn’t sweet at all, but Leo liked it all the same. There was so much masculinity in the flavor. Leo didn’t like how being under Cristiano felt like he was trapped, but the older man’s body was hot, and it felt good to be warm. His hands rubbed Leo’s pussy the way they had the other night, and Leo closed his eyes. He tried to focus on how good it all felt, and not the tightness that was growing in his chest. Cristiano smelled good, too. His musk was started to cloud up Leo’s senses, and he knew how to work Leo’s body. He crooked his fingers to stroke the front wall of Leo’s pussy, making him whine and arch his back for more.

He could handle this, Leo thought.

It wasn’t until Cristiano’s fingers _entered_ him that everything became real.

Leo tried to act. He tried to push Cristiano off him, but the man was heavier and stronger than him. So, he moaned out a “stop!” and continued to struggle. His squirming caused Cristiano to pull his fingers out of his cunt. When the alpha got up to give Leo some leeway, the omega could see that Cristiano was throbbing in his boxers. 

“I…I can’t do this,” Leo told him. He tried to remain calm. “It’s, it’s too fast. I’m not ready.” He looked up to Cristiano with wet, brown eyes, pleading at him to understand. “I’m sorry.” He meant it. He didn’t want to hurt Cristiano because he liked him. He did.

Cristiano scowled. “Are you fucking serious?”

Leo winced at his reaction. He tried to explain, but then Cristiano told him not to bother. He got off him. 

“Fine,” he told Leo. “You’re not worth this bullshit, Leo.”

Leo was taken back by the venom in that statement. “Cris—"

“Do you think I’m the sort of guy who needs to beg for pussy?” He asked Leo. “That I would drop everything for a chance to have you.”

Leo was silent. Cristiano sounded so angry.

“I’ve had a shit day so far, and it wasn’t made any better when I had to pick up a fucking cocktease from the airport because he got into a fight with his teammates when _they won a match_ on a day my team lost.”

Leo swallowed. He wanted to say that had nothing to do with it, but it occurred to Leo that maybe Cristiano was right. Maybe it was selfish to call Cristiano to comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said again.

Cristiano brushed him off. “You can stay in the guest room,” he scowled. He then grabbed Leo’s hand and shoved it against his crotch. Leo winced when Cristiano forced his erection in his hand. “You did this, and you don’t even have the decency to take care of it.”

Leo’s eyes widened when Cristiano said that. The older man let go of the omega. He walked over to his phone and started scrolling down his numbers.

“What are you doing?” Leo whispered.

Cristiano snorted. “Fuck if I’m spending the night with a dry dick.”

Leo didn’t know how to respond. If he had been any smarter, if he’d listen to his friends, and took their advice, he’d be out the door already. Instead, Leo got off the bed, and took the phone out of Cristiano’s hands.

Cristiano stared at him. Waiting.

“Okay,” Leo mumbled out. “Okay.”

Cristiano didn’t change his expression. He raised an eyebrow. “Okay what?" 

Leo hated the feeling in his chest. "We can...we can do it." 

"It?" 

Leo bit his lip. "You can fuck me."

Cristiano scoffed. "And what if you say no again? I’m not becoming a rapist because you can’t make up your mind.”

“I won’t say no,” Leo promised. “Just…don't call anyone else. I’m all you need.”

Cristiano licked his lips. He stared Leo up and down.

Leo forgot he was naked. His body was on fire as he was inspected by Cristiano, and finally, the man said, “Prove it.”

Leo didn’t have to ask how. Cristiano got on the bed. He removed his erection from his boxers, and it was hard as a hammer gave all the teasing that occurred. Pre-cum leaked at the top, and it was dripping down the shaft. It was a massive, scary thing, and not meant for beginners.

“Touch it.”

Leo swallowed. There was noticeably glistening between his thighs. No matter how nervous he was or how ill-prepared, he was an omega, and his body craved this sort of attention. Leo put his left hand on the shaft, and Cristiano’s dick twitched at the clumsy way it was being held. It was still good, though. Despite his behavior, Cristiano had said he didn't mind Leo’s inexperience, and let it slip in one of their conversations that he wanted to be the one who taught Lionel Messi how to please an alpha. 

Leo's face was flushed pink at the memory. His body was sweating like crazy. He continued to stroke Cristiano’s erection, moving up and down the shaft with the curiosity of a child. 

"Fuck, that's good." 

“Stop,” Cristiano told him. Leo stopped. “Are you on birth control?”

Leo was confused. “No?”

Cristiano eyed Leo's pussy hiding between his thighs. Then, he shook his head and mutter, "I'm not fucking a pussy that good with a condom." Leo felt hope build up in his chest. Maybe Cristiano would wait. Then, the alpha smirked at him and reached over him to grab his ass. “I guess I’ll be using a different hole tonight,” he told Leo, trying not to sound gleeful. Leo shivered. He remembered what Geri told him; Cristiano was an ass man, after all. “Turn around and ride me.”

Leo thought the humiliation would never end. He took a breath and then did as commanded. He could do this, Leo thought. It was just sex. The alphas on his squad went through hundreds of omegas each year. Sometimes the same ones. Sometimes at the same time. Leo could do this if they could. 

When he turned around, Cristiano immediately grabbed the omega’s ass. He praised him for his body, saying things like 'Fuck, the globes were perfect.' It's embarrassing how he went on about the fattiness and bounce, and how there was just enough muscle for tightness. 

"I knew when you started sending me those pictures; I couldn’t spend another week without getting in balls deep in you." 

Leo almost wailed when Cristiano shoved his finger inside him. “Cris—!”

“You’re getting wet for me,” Cristiano admired. “Omegas have a harder time getting wet in the ass. You must want this.” Leo’s hole was twitching like crazy. Cristiano could barely control his cock as he saw it puckering around his finger like a kiss. “This is what you wanted. I bet you’re happy your teammates found out, so you no longer had to hide how badly you wanted to get pounded. You’re not so sweet and innocent anymore. You’re just another omega who wants to get fucked.”

Leo only whimpered. He wasn’t struggling anymore; his ass stood at attention, waiting to be used. Cristiano removed his finger, only to knead the orbs in front of him. He then spread them far apart again. The hole was really wet now, and it looked like it wanted a kiss.

Cristiano pressed his lips down on it. Leo made the most charming, helpless whine.

“I think it’s time I gave you what you stayed for.”

Cristiano started off slow, because he didn’t want to break Leo just yet. He fed his cock in that ass, inch by inch, ignoring the helpless, high-pitched keens coming from Leo’s mouth. Cristiano gritted his teeth at the tightness. He didn't tell Leo, but already, he predicted Leo to be the best cunt he'd ever had. Cristiano never had such fresh, unspoiled cunt in his life; anyone could tell that Leo was special. He was tight but stretchy, wet and warm, but so fucking inviting you couldn’t get enough. On the last few inches, Cristiano behaved like a teenager. Three inches left, and Cristiano rammed the rest of him in one, quick thrust, earning a near wail from Leo’s mouth.

Cristiano thought he’d be screaming, but as soon as Cristiano was fully inside, Leo’s hole clenched around him as much as he possibly could, making Cristiano grab his hips to make sure he was real.

“Ah…big…you’re so big,” Leo babbled out. Cristiano was about to order him to ride him, loving the idea of forcing him to move when the penetration was too much for him, but his words died on his lips.

Leo took only a moment to adjust before he slowly started to move. Cristiano was much bigger than his fingers—so thick and long. The friction increased as his speed did, and Leo found that the deeper Cristiano got, the better it felt for him. It still hurt, everything still hurt so much, but there was that good, gooey feeling that came with it. He supposed that feeling was what made omegas come back to alphas. Leo fucked himself on the cock, panting and moaning as he did it.

Leo didn’t see how it drove Cristiano crazy, but he hoped it did. He remembered what Pique said about tightness during the deed and tried to clench around the cock when it was inside him.

Fuck, Cristiano thought. He gripped Leo’s hips harder. He tried to push inside, matching Leo’s movements. Instead of going for more shallow thrusts, Leo almost completely lifted himself off and slammed himself down on it. It was too fucking much for Cristiano. At that moment, Cristiano knew he’d give anything to come in this man’s ass.

“Get off,” Cristiano muttered. It pained him to say it, and it never had before. He used omegas like Leo all the time. But Leo was so perfect and tight; his reluctance couldn’t help but appear.

Leo whimpered; it sounded both curious and disappointed.

“I changed my mind,” Cristiano swallowed. “You can take the pill tomorrow. I want to use your pussy.”

Leo didn’t get much of a choice in that matter, either. Cristiano flipped him so he was laying on top of the bed. The Portuguese player got between the omega’s legs, which was a hard fit considering his size. He was tiny, and the sight of Cristiano’s cock slapping against his stomach only emphasized their size difference.

Leo thought it’d be less embarrassing seeing Cristiano’s face, but he was wrong. He tried to cover his expression with his arms, but Cristiano was having none of it. He grabbed both his wrists and pinned it to the bed. Then, the grip softened. Leo looked at his reflection in the ceiling and saw how his were big and glassy, his lips were parted, and his face was as flush as his pussy on his worst days. He was sure he had more restraint during a heat.

Leo blinked up at Cristiano. He called out his name. “Cris?” He said, softly.

Cristiano didn’t respond. He hooked Leo’s knees over his elbow, and guided himself inside Leo’s pink, wet, untouched cunt and moaned as Leo instinctively to close his legs around him, but all it did was rock his hips up against him. Cristiano’s dick got deeper inside the ring of muscle, and though Leo was whimpering again, moans were accompanying them. There was more slickness in Leo’s pussy than his ass, and it was easier to completely go inside.

“You feel so fucking good. So hot and tight. So fucking good,” Cristiano told him. “Such a good boy for me, saving yourself for my big, thick cock.” He said several things to Leo, starting from how he’d never had anyone so small or wet or tight, but nothing made any sense to the omega because there was more cock in his body than oxygen.

Before Cristiano could decide whether he wanted to do it slowly to enjoy every amazing, smooth fold of that wonderful pussy, or fast to get the best possible friction against his cock, his phone rang. It was still on the floor, having dropped it when Leo decided to and spread his legs. Fortunately, he dropped on the screen, and Cristiano could tell exactly who was calling.

Cristiano stopped thrusting. He then looked at Leo, still completely lost in the sensation of thorough fucking. When Cristiano stopped moving, Leo looked lost. It was fucking adorable, Cristiano admitted, but not what he wanted. He needed to ruin Leo, if not to the world, than at least his team.

Cristiano got out of Leo to pick up the phone.

“What are you…what are you doing?”

Cristiano licked his lips. He picked up the phone, and then returned to Leo’s deliciously, tight hole. Leo let him in easy after that, but in an attempt to maintain his composure, he bit down on his lip to keep him from screaming. 

“Cris, I swear to fucking God, if Leo is there, I will—”

“He is here,” Cristiano told him. “God, he’s even better than I imagined, Geri.”

Leo couldn’t hold back. He let go of his lips in shock, and whimpered.

“Was that Leo?” Geri asked, quietly.

“You can tell?” Cristiano answered in a normal, casual tone. He decided to do whatever came naturally, moving forward inside Leo at a steady pace. He wanted to sound cool and confident as he ruined Barcelona’s prodigy, but it was hard. Leo’s legs are hitched on his shoulders, and it made it easy for Cristiano to lose control. And further, no matter how much he tried to muffle his noises, Leo was loud. He released a string of wordless, guttered nonsense, and it was some of the sexiest noises he ever heard. 

“Cris, you are dead—"

“He’s leaking everywhere,” Cristiano told Geri. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a pussy this good in my life. I can’t believe someone this slutty hasn’t been dicked, yet.”

“Cris, stop it—” Leo begged. Cristiano silenced him by making a quick, hard shove against his cunt. He started choking. Pique could hear it. He was completely silent. Cristiano almost felt bad. He liked Pique. He didn’t want the guy to get his feelings hurt.

But this wasn’t about him, or Barcelona. It was about Lionel Messi. Fucking, gorgeous, perfect Lionel Messi.

“I guess I have you guys to thank for that. You Barca players look after your own—you made sure I got him nice and tight. He’s going to look so good around my knot. Maybe I can breed him with a baby or two. He’d like that, right?”

Leo tried, with weak arms, to grab the phone from Cristiano. “Cris, you can’t just—” But he couldn’t do much while impaled on Cristiano’s cock. Leo’s protests were disturbingly beautiful. Weak and soft, but so alluring that Cristiano’s instincts were to take him completely and wholly.

“You want to talk to your friend, Leo? Your big brother?” Cristiano asked. Pique was still on the phone, but he hadn’t said a word. There was some background noise, and no small amount of glee built up in his chest when he realized those were other players on the phone. It wasn’t just Pique listening. It was Leo’s team.

Cristiano ignored any feelings of guilt or regret he had for taking that call. Leo looked so beautiful in his arms, completely submissive. He felt drunk on the power he had over this timeless, untouchable omega. “Tell them how good you feel,” He ordered. His hands were making bruises into his thighs.

Leo whimpered, and Cristiano bent over to continue thrusting. His knot started to build up, faster than it ever had for any other omega. To his surprised, Leo tried to reach forward, to nuzzle his cheek against his. It was such an affectionate gesture, reserved for lovers or family members.

No one had ever done it for Cristiano, and as he inhaled Leo’s scent, a scent that made him want more than what he could afford, he got angrier.

Cristiano started thrusting in and out of Leo with his knot almost fully formed. The omega was almost screaming, which earned a swear over the phone. “Fucking asshole!” He heard someone yell.

Cristiano ignored them. He focused on Leo. “Tell them you love this. Tell them how good it feels to be hole for this big, Madrid cock.” He leaned forward and bit down on Leo’s shoulder. It was close enough to his mating gland to cause a similar, burst in pheromones, but not directly on it enough to make Leo lose his mind.

Leo couldn’t think regardless. The knot was stretching out his pussy in ways he couldn’t comprehend. He felt good and horrible at the same time. Everything hurt, but it was the best thing he’d ever experienced in his life. Cristiano was thrusting wildly into him, and his eyes water from the sensation.

“Tell them,” Cristiano grunted. He dropped it next to Leo’s mouth; his hair was pressed to the sweat-matted skin. 

Leo moaned, and he sounded raw and broken and sinfully beautiful as his innocence was ripped away from him. “I love his cock,” Leo confessed, and it came out at once, weak and defeated. “I love it; I love it, I love it…” Leo was moaning it out until he forgot the words. Cristiano can’t remember ever seeing anything so lovely. He couldn’t help at this point. Cristiano came inside Leo, spilled his seed straight into Leo’s fertile insides, his thick thighs and bony hips struggling to contain the entirety of Cristiano’s loads. The forward gripped the omega’s highs tight enough to claw into Leo’s fleshy features, and he is perfect, open, and willing to accept Cristiano’s potent cum.

Leo came after him, his lovely cunt stuttering around his erection, and gripping onto his knot for dear life. It should have been enough, but the prolonged pleasure gnawed on his pride. Cristiano was still coming, coating Leo’s insides with sticky cum, as Leo’s body grew limp from overuse.

Leo’s friends had already hung up the phone. Cristiano didn’t care about them. He started to fuck Leo more fervently. His cock was still hard, and his knot hadn’t swelled down yet. The tight heat accepted his punishing thrusts without protests, and Leo could do nothing but tremble around the sensation.

Leo was far too gone to be anything about a slick opening for Cristiano’s cock. He couldn’t make a sound anymore. He just laid on Cristiano’s bed, limp and easy, nodding dumbly to whatever Cristiano said as he was bred within an inch of life. During the fucking, Leo opened his mouth to invite Cristiano for a kiss. Strangely enough, the alpha complied. Even in pain, the whole sensation felt unbelievably good. Blissful, almost.

It felt natural, and Leo told himself, that maybe, this meant it was right.

***

Leo returned home with a hangover.

Not an alcohol-induced one, but it felt the same. He didn’t wait for Cristiano to wake up and drive him back to the airport. He called a taxi and the driver smelled his distress and asked if he needed a stop to the emergency room. He told them no. “I just want to go home.”

Leo got to the airport, and it was Madrid, so there he couldn’t count on a nice Barcelonan fan to help him through the process. Despite that, he was able to manage. Give them his ID and credit card, and they get him on an early flight as soon as possible. When he was waiting, an older omega—maybe in his fifties—asked if he was alright. He opened his mouth to answer and then shook his head.

“I feel sick,” he muttered. The man nodded and offered him some medicine from his bag.

“Tylenol,” the man explained. “Helps with…these sorts of situations.” He tried to smile at Leo. “I used to have rough nights, too. When I was younger.” Before Leo could explain, he noticed the man eying the bruises on his arms, and his neck. Leo took the medicine. He could imagine his family yelling at him for being so careless as to take candy from a stranger, but he wasn’t thinking straight. He doesn’t think he was thinking straight for weeks. Being taken care of was something he was good at.

“Thank you.”

The man gave him some water, and he drank it down. The man was considerate enough not to ask questions or offer any advice. They sat in silence, and when they got on the plane, Leo didn’t speak to anyone. It was a crowded flight, surprisingly, but fast. When Leo got to Barcelona, he contemplated calling a taxi or having one of his friends pick him up like always. He wondered what he would do if no one picked up. Would they hate him?

He would hate him, Leo thought. He hated himself already.

In the end, Leo braved the consequences. Some part of him wanted to get punished, so he made the call to Iniesta first. The alpha was always level-headed. Leo froze when he picked up on the first ring.

“Leo?”

Leo didn’t answer at first.

“Are you okay?”

“…”

“Leo.” He could hear Iniesta take a deep breath. “Please say something. I’m not angry. None of us are. We’re worried about you. That’s all.”

Leo closed his eyes. He sighed, as he told them he was back in Barcelona. “I’m fine. I…I need someone to pick me up.”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.” He asked for the terminal like Cristiano had, but before Leo could immerse in the thoughts of last night, Iniesta asked him to stay on the phone. He said he was putting Leo on speaker. 

“I don’t want to talk right now,” Leo confessed.

“That’s okay,” Iniesta told him. “I’ll talk. You can just listen.”

Iniesta didn’t talk about last night or Leo at all. He explained to Leo his plans to invest in his boyhood club, Albacete, and the things he did to deal with the struggles in his life. It was a pleasant conversation, and Leo liked listening to Iniesta’s voice.

When Iniesta picked him up, Leo noticed several members of their team. Geri wasn’t there, but David and Xavi were, and they hugged him like normal. They were wearing their training kits and asked if it was alright he went to Camp Nou with them, or if he wanted to be dropped off at home. When Leo said training, there was a mixed reaction. It was overshadowed as they all started chatted about different things, not once bringing up last night.

Leo didn’t know why he said something, but it was eating him inside. “I’m sorry,” he told them. Before he could go further, Xavi interrupted him.

“It’s okay,” he reassured Leo. He had a shaky smile. “You didn’t know any better. It’s fine.” 

They started talking about training again. In the car, Leo received a text message. He only saw the first few words, but he knew it was from Cristiano. The passengers next to him could see it. Everyone became silent, and their smiles tensed. Leo looked up and saw their expressions. Then, he turned the phone off and put it in his pocket.

“I want to stop using my phone so much,” Leo told them.

Happy smiles erupted in the car.

“Good idea,” Xavi told him. “I heard it can give you cancer, or some shit.”

***

When they went to Camp Nou, Puyol was waiting for them. He scolded them for leaving, saying they don’t need “three people to pick up one person from the airport,” especially when that one person didn’t have any luggage. They all looked the other way and laughed as they got back to work. When they were gone, Leo looked at his captain.

The older alpha looked at him. He was a brave man to maintain eye contact when he would rather be anywhere else. Leo knew why he was chosen for captain. Puyol wasn’t the best player on the team, but no matched him in command. He’d been Leo’s captain his entire career, and Leo can’t imagine anyone else taking his spot. Suddenly, he reached out to ruffle Leo’s head. “Are you okay?”

Leo nodded. “Yes.”

The two of them didn’t know what to say to each other.

“Pep wants to speak to you,” he said at last.

Leo looked down at his feet. “Why?”

“You have to ask him.”

“Okay.”

There was more silence and staring contest that held no purpose other than to provide discomfort for one another. Finally, Puyol walked away. Leo wondered if it physically pained him not to drag Leo to the office himself. It might have made things easier for Leo if he didn’t have a choice.

Unfortunately, Leo seemed to have more choices than he thought. Leo walked to Pep’s office. The man looked up from his paperwork. 

“Take a seat,” he told Leo.

Leo continued to stand.

Pep raised an eyebrow. “Do you plan on making a run for it?”

“I don’t know,” Leo answered honestly. “I don’t know why I am here.”

Pep sighed. “You’re here because I want to talk to you about last night.”

Leo moved closer. He still wasn’t sitting. “No one wants to talk to me about that.” He paused. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not talking about Cris…I’m not talking about what happened after the dinner.” Pep sighed. “I want to talk to you about Ronaldinho.”

Leo sat down. “You said you transferred him because he wasn’t performing well enough.”

“He wasn’t,” Pep agreed. “He spent his nights partying before a match, coming to practices hungover, and I can’t remember the last time we spoke where he wasn’t drenched in the scent of an omega. And the way _he touched you_ ,” Pep sighed. He put his head in his hands and looked like the world was ending. “I had just become the new coach at Barcelona. I overheard from a colleague that they saw you in a club with Ronaldinho and Deco. You were, what? 21? I went there, and you were drinking with him. He was giving you shots, and he had you in his lap, and Deco was asking if he could ‘get a turn.’”

The memory was familiar, but Leo can only recall blurs. “I…I don’t remember.”

“I’m not surprised.” Pep scoffed. “I dragged you out of there. Your father took care of your hangover, and we never spoke about it again. Then I made it clear to the club I was transferring Ronaldinho as soon as the window was back up.”

Pep looked up.

Leo looked at his hands.

“That wasn’t the only incident. He did it a lot to you. I think…he never admitted to it, but I think Rijkaard encouraged him.” The mention of Pep’s predecessor alarmed Leo. “When I confronted him, he told me not to worry because he convinced Ronaldinho to wait until you were older. As if I should be grateful he didn't fuck you when you were seventeen." Pep looked so angry. "I had a choice, Leo. You or Ronaldinho. I choose you.”

Leo remained silent. Then, he looked up at Pep and said, “You always protected me, didn’t you?”

Pep tried to smile. It still looked sad. “I’ll always try.”

Leo got up from the chair and thanked him. “Can I go to training now?”

“Are you up for it?”

“I just want to watch. I want to be near the field.”

Pep thought about it, but then he saw the determination in Leo’s eyes and nodded. “Okay. Don’t overexert yourself.”

Leo promised not to. He stopped by the empty locker room, and when he was sure he was alone,

Leo took off his pants. He touched his pussy and hissed when he realized how sore he was. He pressed his fingers inside. He was still sore. He didn’t get to shower when he left Cristiano’s place so there was still cum deep inside him. There was a mirror across from him. Leo spread his legs and opened up his folds so he could watch it drip out of him. He moved a little more and accidentally knocked his pants on the floor. His phone slipped out of the pocket.

Leo stared at the device. He picked up gingerly and looked around again. No one seemed to be coming in. They were all training. He turned on the device. There was one missed call from Cristiano and three new messages. He checked the messages, and there were exactly what he expected. One asked where he was. The second told him how good his pussy was last night. The third wanted a picture. 

Leo took a deep breath. He thought about his teammates, and how worried they were, how ashamed they would be to see him even reading the messages. Before he could delete any of them, however, Cristiano sent him another message.

_I want to see you again._

Leo read the words over and over again, and then at the mirror showcasing his used pussy. Then, he positioned his camera and snapped a picture. Leo sent it to Cristiano without a message attached. 

Leo didn’t have to wait long.

_Fuck, I want you._

Cristiano called him again. Leo didn’t check to see if he was alone a third time. Maybe he was hoping to get caught because Leo picked up right away.

They spoke for a few moments, getting their pleasantries across before Cristiano asked when his next heat was. Leo explained his heats were irregular. “I don’t know.”

“You should get on birth control as soon as possible,” Cristiano advised. “If you feel this good now, I can’t wait to try you out on your heat.”

Leo thought he heard someone coming in. He jumped when he realized it was just a custodian passing through the halls. Cristiano asked if he was still there, and Leo said he was still here.

“Well?”

Leo thought about his bruised pussy and how rough Cristiano got last night. He thought about the things Cristiano made him do, how hard he went, how he treated Leo like an object rather than a person.

Then, Leo thought about their kisses. How deep they were, and intense they felt, and how sometimes when Cristiano was inside him, Leo was reminded of heaven. Cristiano’s cum was warm and his body was strong, and he made Leo feel wanted in a way no other alpha had.

Cristiano got him to stop thinking like football did, and if someone could make him feel like football, then shouldn't the bad parts of him be worth it, too? Leo clutched onto his phone a little tighter, and told Cristiano, yes. 

Leo was going to see him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably one of the best things I've written in a while. I'm really proud of it. I wrote this is as a "Pilot Shot" which is a one-shot story that maybe become a multi-chapter story upon popular request. So if you're interested in seeing this expand, please leave a note and I will take it into consideration for the summer. :) 
> 
> I’m on twitter, and it’s a good place to reach me if you want to know what I’m working on at the moment. I also have a separate site for original works.
> 
> Twitter: [@sometimesimeow](https://twitter.com/sometimesimeow)  
> Literary Website: [Murder at the Cathouse](http://www.murderatthecathouse.com)  
> 


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